Chapter 1: The Duality of Choice

As I awaken, I find myself suspended between two worlds. In my mind's eye, I observe Frank and Sam, two siblings raised with the same principles regarding nutrition, ethics, and health.

Frank consistently opts for healthier choices, doing so with assurance and ease. In contrast, Sam gravitates towards indulgent foods that upset his digestion and contain chemicals he knows are harmful. Despite both being aware of healthier alternatives, why does Frank prioritize his well-being while Sam seeks instant gratification?

While there are undoubtedly numerous factors at play, one significant aspect that stands out in this half-awake state is self-belief. Frank possesses a strong sense of self-worth and confidence; he has always felt deserving of good things. His accomplishments were consistently validated by his teachers and family, regardless of the outcomes.

On the other hand, Sam has internalized negative feedback over the years, leading to self-doubt, anxiety, and second-guessing. His experiences at school lacked celebration, and at home, he faced a lot of responsibilities along with a critical mother.

These contrasting personalities reflect my own internal struggle. Just last week, I confided in a friend, expressing, "I know better, yet I don’t act accordingly."

Late nights spent binge-watching YouTube videos, playing games on my phone, and avoiding my emotions became my norm. The underlying reason? Deep within my subconscious lies a belief that I am unwanted, a burden, and that I inflict pain on others. This belief drives a desire for self-punishment, a narrative shaped by my own experiences and the perceptions of those around me.

Like Sam, I absorbed the messages from childhood that suggested my worth was conditional. Although I recognized my inherent value, I felt others failed to see it, leading me to believe that my very existence caused harm.

What choice did I have as a child? I couldn't simply cease to exist, so I resorted to punishing myself for the perceived crime of being "imperfect." This coping mechanism, rooted in self-hatred, served its purpose during my formative years, shielding me from abuse while occasionally attracting attention and affection.

Anger was never an acceptable response; instead, I learned that crying was a more effective means of getting my needs met, reinforcing the narrative that I was unwanted. My belief that I was a burden solidified over time, particularly during moments of rejection from family members and peers.

Being the youngest in the family, my interests often clashed with those of my older siblings, who seemed to have more significant priorities. My status as an "accidental baby," born to older parents who hadn’t planned for me, further deepened my conviction that my existence was a burden.

Observing my parents struggle to make ends meet, I convinced myself that I was the source of their financial strain. I accepted hand-me-downs and went hungry, believing I didn’t deserve enough to eat or the chance to choose my clothing. I felt that asking for more would only add to their struggles—after all, a "good person" wouldn’t do that.

This belief in causing harm has lingered, resonating with the principle of Ahimsa—causing no harm. Yet, perhaps this notion stems from a desire to take up less space in the world.

I sensed that my existence was a problem; my father’s desire to be with my mother often translated into resentment towards my need for attention. I internalized the household abuse, wrongly believing that if I were "enough," it would cease. When it didn’t, I once again placed the blame on myself, even when I was merely a victim.

The burden of religious trauma also weighed heavily on me. Raised in a strict Catholic environment, I absorbed the pervasive message that I was inherently flawed—a sinner constantly under divine scrutiny.

This self-concept of being "bad" contradicted my true nature, which is deeply cautious about inflicting harm on any being, be it human, animal, or the environment. My efforts to prove myself as a "good person" often led to people-pleasing behaviors, lacking boundaries, and self-sabotage.

Thus, the present moment reveals itself—embodied in the contrasting figures of Frank and Sam, who symbolize the conflicting parts of my psyche. One part acknowledges her worth, yet still grapples with subconscious beliefs that need further healing.

And so, the true inner work begins here. I wish you clarity on what may be hindering your pursuit of happiness and fulfillment.

In this insightful video, "Why Do We Keep Doing This?" we explore the underlying mechanisms that drive our choices and behaviors, shedding light on self-sabotage and the patterns that keep us stuck.

Chapter 2: The Impact of Self-Perception

The music video "Chase Matthew - Darlin'" captures the emotional journey of understanding self-worth and love, providing a powerful backdrop for reflecting on our inner struggles and triumphs.